Olitory rain; a rain-forest in the kitchen, again. Time for a change. Time for an adventure. Time to let the ceiling-cascade water the counter-top-basil-and-sage.

Time to escape.

“Time runs along a linear plain, they say. Nothing remains the same. Thus, we can never turn back, again.”

Pompous, highfalutin windbag…

Another dull interplay as Traffic Light refuses to change.

“You see, this is known as the arrow of time, which describes the asymmetrical nature of Time, and…”

Please…Eat your…GREEN.

Bunched traffic left in a puddle, behind.

What am I doing? What have I been doing all these years?

Unraveling like an old sweater.

All my life, pushing quaint little notes under the slouching fence. But I see no familiar, vibrant-faced recipient peeping back at me through the shadowy gap in the moldered boards. I only see darkness.

She must have grown up and moved away.

How pretty mold can be, as it glitters in the rain.

She used to snack on fistfuls of buttercups in the field and make her eyes turn white. She liked to snarl like a mountain bear and play basketball on roller-blades. And how she loved wild toads.

I have found it- another abandoned place to jauk about, dispensing disheveled, nullibiquitous thoughts out into the ether.

Let the leak in the dysphoric sky wash me like a houseplant. How lovely to watch each drop scatter the dust.

That liminal phase- I wander through a succession of tropical depressions, a soggy bindle sagging over my shoulder.

Ha, my thoughts went a bit askew for this post. I never know where they will take me 😀 Glad you liked the images. It was my favourite sort of afternoon- nice and uvid. The swampy lizard friend was a nice surprise. Thank you for swimming by. Smiling cheers,

Thank you very much! I am so delighted that you liked it. The little anole lizard was a nice surprise. I suddenly felt watched, turned around, and there he was gawping up at me, squinting through the giant rain-drops splattering all around him. Can never go far without encountering curious wildlife, in Florida. Thank you for visiting. All the best and happy wandering to you,

i feel your soul while reading your words and looking at your pics. How difficult it can be to share. Even worse not to. One could sit together and not exchange a single word, share the intensity of those moments.

Ahoy there, dear Bert! Always a delight to see you. I am so glad you enjoyed the post.

Yes, it can be very difficult indeed, sometimes. My gravely ol’ seafaring drawl was stolen for a while by the wails of the tempest, but slowly, my voice is coming back.

So true, Bert. There can be such anguish in sharing, and sometimes the pain steals away with our words- but true friends can abide with one another and feel everything in full intensity, without a single word exchanged.

Thank you for your poetic and thoughtful words, and thank you for drizzling by.

AH sneaky fellows, armadillos! I was prowling the woods some nights ago, reveling at the silvery moonlit-garland streaming through the humming moss-draped trees. And then, suddenly, I heard this tremendous crash and then the sound of an 8-ton monster huffing and crunching toward me from the inner bowels of the forest. I froze thinking, “Oh, my…a black bear is smashing through the forest, coming right toward me.” I had seen a bear earlier, you see, very briefly. I waited in joyous anticipation. The sound of a semi crashing into a stone wall at 90 mph would have been quieter as the massive mountain of a creature came smashing toward me. Five seconds later- tiny, sleepy-eyed little armadillo plops onto the trail, snouting about coyly, a flurry of dried leaves settling around him. The wee creature spotted me, of course, gawping wildly at him. Shock clearly registered on his pale little face for a second and then off he shot into the forest bowels once more…much quieter in retreat, I must note.

HAHAHA YES! I have no idea why it has never occurred to me to lug my camera in with me- I just get so blasted excited, I forget all about it. Well, a new photo-shoot to plan, then, just for you, Feral 😉

Indeed it does! Rain, snow, fog, mist- all of them have a feeling of transition about them. They do change the landscape and alter things; and rain…with its intoxicating scent of petrichor, certainly creates that feeling of freshness and renewal, rejuvenation even. Thank you for rippling by and having a wee look and thanks so much for the marvelous comment.

not only are your photos riveting, but you write beautifully as well… 🙂
btw, I had to google the word “petrichor”… I didn’t know there is such word in English, in my language we don’t have a single word for the smell of rain falling on the ground… it’s something I always register with my senses, but I am really sometimes at a loss for words to describe..

There are a surprising number of interesting and beautiful words in the English language that describe elements of place and weather. I am endlessly pursuing them as, in dictionaries, they continually become replaced by more and more tech-words to describe our ever-expanding digital existence. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing. I am so glad you were able to learn this new and wonderful word. “Pluvial” is another pretty word, related, that I am absolutely obsessed with. I never tire of that word!

There is a book that I am getting that I expect will enthrall me for hour and hours- “Landmarks” by Robert Macfarlane- rife with unique and lesser-known words to describe the natural world around us- focused on the UK with an extended glossary of words from around the world in the paperback version coming out soon. I have now rambled on for far too long, har har.

Thanks so much for drizzling by and having a look, and for the dazzling comment. Happy meandering to you and have a delightful week. Cheers,

Thank you so much, Elmediat. Delighted that you enjoyed them. 😀 I just love these tropical rainy days in summer…and the abandoned tennis-and-racquetball park seemed like a wonderful place to visit in the rain.